The Emotions of Potions
by Rein Elanor
Summary: A lovely (and at times amusing) romp through the changes in Hermione Granger and Severus Snape's relationship. Included: a "Christmas dinner incident", a Veritaserum accident, a few "oh no, we're trapped!" incidents, and some casual injury. SSHG
1. A Potion to Make your Dreams Come True

The Emotions of Potions Rein Elanor

Chapter 1: A Potion to Make your Dreams Come True

Disclaimer: You see this story? The one printed below? Well, I don't own anything you recognise. And I probably don't own many things that fail to recognise. I'm not making money on this, I'm just getting it out of my system If I didn't do this, I'd most likely be sitting in a small white room humming. Wait . . . I'm already doing that. Well, this is already way too long. Please don't sue me.

Author's Note: This is the first fan fiction I've ever posted, although I've been writing it since before I knew it was called fan fiction and that lots of people did it. In case you can't tell, I'm madly in love with Severus Snape. (And Sherlock Holmes. That type of standoff-ish, nasty seeming man always gets me.) This is just happy fluff. Like I write anything else. :)

I also have a "leaky pen" problem. I can't seem to stop babbling about nothing. It happens when I'm talking, and apparently when I'm typing as well. Sorry.

Warning: This is Severus/ Hermione (later. I like tension). If this grosses you out, you might want to pick something else. Even though you _are_ missing out. Poor you.

The Emotions of Potions: Chapter 1

It was Thursday. Hermione Granger hated Thursdays, mainly because she had Double Advanced Potions with the Slytherins that day. The Slytherins jeered, Snape sneered, and Ron always tried to grab her butt while she was bending over her cauldron. Ron was very immature. And he was a very sloppy kisser, as Hermione had found out.

She and Ron had been going out for about four months. The only reason Hermione had consented to go out with Ron was because she was feeling . . . well, desperate. She had a few needs to fulfill, and while Ron was not Cassanova, (or even Gilderoy Lockhart) he _was_ a boy. Not a man, but a boy.

Hemione sighed as she sat down at the regular Potions bench between Harry and Ron. They were talking about some Quidditch move or another, saying it would revolutionize the game, and blah blah blah. Hermione concentrated on reading the board that outlined the day's potion. As her eyes moved over its description, she gasped.

"A Potion to make your Dreams Come True"

Snape was talking.

"If you make this potion correctly, as some of you will undoubtedly fail to do," he glanced at Neville Longbottom, "then when you ingest a small dose, you will see the subject of your most frequent dream appear in smoke on the desk before you."

Snape strode in between the tables, looking at the students scornfully and sending his greasy curtains of black hair flying about his face.

"This potion is most difficult, and it requires precise measuring. If you fail to follow my instruction to the letter," he gestured at the board, "you will be very unhappy when the time comes for us to test your concoctions at the end of class. Get to work."

Hermione read the instructions all the way through, carefully, and then started her potion. Ten minutes into the period, Snape walked over to Neville's cauldron and looked distastefully at it.

"And what is this, Longbottom?" he asked in his deadly cold voice, loud enough for the whole call to hear. Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine.

"It's my Dream- Image Manifesting Potion, sir," Neville said nervously.

"It's supposed to be gelatinous by now, Longbottom," Snape sneered, spooning some of Neville's watery potion up so everyone could see it.

The Slytherins laughed derisively at this, and Ron and Harry clenched their fists.

"What is it, Longbottom, that makes you so very hopeless at potion- making?" Snape asked as he continued his patrol of the students.

Neville looked sadly at his runny orange potion and Hermione saw a single tear run slowly down his face and into his cauldron.

"He makes me so mad!" She whispered fiercely to Harry and Ron a half- hour later.

They were sitting at the benches again, with their cauldrons behind them, cooling for six minutes. Ron had his hand of her knee under the table, and even through her robes she could feel that it was a bit sticky.

"Who, Snape?" Harry asked absently. He was drawing a picture of a Quidditch field on a spare bit of parchment, featuring himself holding the Snitch and waving triumphantly.

"Of course Snape! Who else would I be talking about?" She snapped, almost forgetting to whisper.

"Draco Malfoy? He _has_ been talking about how much he hates "filthy mudbloods" all class, you know," Harry pointed out mildly.

"Yeah, you know what, Hermione?" Ron began, and then he jumped a bit in his seat. Hermione had slapped his hand away from her leg (it had been roaming a bit too far for class time). Ron continued without blushing, "I think Draco fancies you, Hermione. He's always trying to get your attention."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Give me a break, Ron," she said. "Malfoy is a slimy little toerag."

Ron shrugged. "I just call them as I see them."

Hermione started to reply, but she was interrupted by Snape.

"Your potions should have solidified into a gel by now, and I want each of you to cut yourself a piece of your own potion and place it on the table before you."

As the students cut themselves pieces of Dream- Image Manifesting Potion and put them on their desks, Snape walked about and inspected their work. Hermione's was a perfect light lavender color. Snape didn't say anything until he got to Draco's potion square. Draco's was a sort of violet color, and Snape said, "Good work, Malfoy."

Draco sneered at Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

"Now," Snape ordered, "you will take up your piece of the gel and eat it."

Everyone did so, with similar looks of distaste on their faces. The pieces of potion were jiggly and slightly sticky. They gulped them down as fast as possible.

Hermione felt as though her brain were being drawn out of her head through her eyes. She squinted a bit, and then, amongst the cries and gasps of the other Gryffindors and the Slytherins, she saw the subject of one of her most frequent dreams forming.

On the desk in front of her stood a miniature version of a tall, dark man. He was obviously tall, on spite of the miniature size of him at present, and he was well- muscled under his dark suit. Not only was he was romantic in a mysterious, dangerous way, but he was also strikingly handsome. And he was beckoning to Hermione.

The underground room was loud, being as it was filled with the exclamations of Hermione's classmates. Harry was looking at a faintly visible pheonix that was slowly flapping its wings and looking back at him.

Ron's desk showed a spider with red hair that was sanding stock- still on the desk and emitting a faint humming sound. It sounded a bit like a clock.

Draco Malfoy was staring lecherously at a mermaid on his desk. The mermaid was scantily- clad and she was flipping her bright hair at him. Malfoy was positively leering. Neville Longbottom's Dream- Image Manifesting Potion seemed to have backfired.

There was no miniature person or thing on Neville' desk. But Neville seemed to be reliving a dream, He was calling out something about Trevor and a boggart with his eyes tightly shut.

Hermione glanced back at her own Dream- Image on the desk. She was surprised to hear it speaking clearly to her. No one else's Dream- Image had really spoken.

In a soft and smokey voice that was nevertheless as smooth as silk, the man on Hermione's desk was saying, "I can teach you, darling. If you only come to me, I could fulfill your every dream. I would teach you how to become a woman."

Hermione blushed and glanced around to see if anyone else had heard what her Dream- Image had said. Ron and Harry were too transfixed by their own Dream- Images to pay any attention to Hermione's. But she say Professor Snape looking at her in a snidely knowing way from across the room. Hermione tossed her head angrily and flicked her hand through the smokey image of the man on her desk. He disappeared quickly and his voice died away. Snape seemed to smirk a bit.

Just then, the door of the dungeon room opened, and Ginny Weasley poked her red head in. Snape spun towards the door and strode foward in his most forbidding manner.

"What is it, Miss Weasley?" he asked her curtly, blocking her entrance. "I have a class in progress here."

"Sorry, sir, but Professor McGonagall has asked to please see Hermione Granger immediately," Ginny said calmly.

Snape shot Hermione an acidic look but he consented to let her go with Ginny to McGonagall's study.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope it hasn't made you puke too much. Yet. Tell me if it did! By the way, Hermione's Dream- Image character fellow wasn't Snape. He was her romantic ideal. You'll see the differences and similarities later. Maybe. I might forget about that part and have to make up an excuse for it at the end. One other thing: The potion let the students see the subject of their most frequent dream, or the thing that dwells in their minds most often. But depending on how well you made the potion, you image might or might not move or speak. That's why Ron's image was humming and not moving, and Harry and Draco's both moved without sound. And poor Neville. . .well, you know. At least he didn't get boils or anything.


	2. Knock Back Some Veritaserum

The Emotions of Potions Rein Elanor

Chapter Two: Knock back some Veritaserum

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related here, excepts bits of the story that no one wants anyways. Like quotation marks.

Chapter 2: Knock back some Veritaserum

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ginny bid Hermione goodbye before they reached McGonagall's study. Hermione made her way over to the correct door and , after knocking, went inside.

Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk. She beckoned Hermione inside and told her to sit down. Once Hermione had put her books down and had taken a seat in one of the chairs in front of McGonagall's desk, she asked a question.

"Why did you call me here, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall leaned foward in her straight- backed chair.

"Miss Granger, you are one of our most talented and intelligent students," she began.

Hermione blushed a bit. "Surely not, Prof"

McGonagall cut her off. "There is no need for false modesty, Miss Granger.

"At Hogwarts, we strive to provide our students with all possible opportunities to excel in their chosen fields. You have made it clear in the past few years that your chief interest lies in the field of Experimental Potions."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I am interested in"

McGonagall cut her off again. "Therefore, we have decided to provide you with additional training and experience in this field You will be given personal lessons by Professor Snape to further your experience in your subject."

Hermione almost choked. "Professor _Snape_?!"

McGonagall looked sharp. "It was very, um, _kind_, of Professor Snape to consent to help you in this endeavor. I trust you will be grateful for this opportunity."

Hermione thought about it for a second. On one hand, she detested Snape and he loathed her. On the other hand, she did love the idea of going into Experimental Potions, and there was no doubt that Professor Snape could help her there.

"Ok, Professor McGonagall. Thank you for this opportunity," she finally said.

For some reason, Hermione didn't want to tell Ron or Harry about her personalized teaching sessions with Snape. The lessons, which were Monday, Tuesdays, and Thursdays from 6:00 until 9:30 pm, she covered up by saying she was at the library.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Hermione's first few lessons with Snape were disasters. He made snide comments about her ability and even about her hair sometimes. She often left at 9:30 in tears from some of his remarks. She didn't know why they affected her so, but she was always hurt by his comments.

On her seventh lesson with Snape, she cam in as usual, at 5:56 pm, to find him sitting behind his desk in his study (with its jars of who- knew- what lining the walls), writing on a piece of parchment. His black hair fell about his face and onto the parchment, and a tiny frown line creased his brow as he concentrated.

Hermione felt a surge of something in her stomach- or was it her head? She didn't know what it was. Perhaps she had eaten too fast.

She coughed a bit to get Snape's attention.

He looked up.

"So you finally decided to come, I see."

Hermione's shoulders slumped, and she felt old tears prickle behind her eyelids. So it would be the same routine tonight.

"Yes, sir," she said quietly. "Thank you for helping me."

She always insisted on being polite. Sometimes she could manage to insert a little ice in her voice, but not right then. She just sounded like a little girl.

Snape stood up. "Today we will be studying the effects of reptile skins in healing potions. Go to the store cupboard and get these things: murtlap essence, one roll of crocodile skin, tortoise claws, hen's teeth, and a small vial of unicorn tears."

Hermione nodded, and turned towards the cupboard in which Snape kept his personal potion supplies. She got everything he asked for- the heavy roll of dry crocodile skin, the jar of murtlap essence, a rolled up paper with the claws in it, and a small vial with a clear liquid in it.

They made the potion, Hermione measuring the ingredients and adding them to the steaming cauldron while Snape stood by talking about the purpose of the potion, and the effect of each of the ingredients and the methods used in preparing the potion on the potion's usefulness.

When they were finished, they each ladled out a small amount. Snape insisted upon his being the one to test it first, as always, in case Hermione had made a mistake. He had rows of antidotes to almost everything in his study, and he had acquainted her with them on the first day in case of emergency.

Snape sipped some of the green potion, and he stood still to measure his reaction. Since he was a fairly healthy man, this potion, which corrected liver problems, would have little effect on him.

Hermione held her breath, as she always did. She knew that Experimental Potions was a dangerous subject, and she never knew what to expect from a new potion.

Snape nodded at her after a few moments. "It seems to be having no ill effects. I have escaped being poisoned by your arrogance once again."

Hermione clenched her teeth and looked at the floor. Snape always insinuated that her "know- it- all" behaviour would cause her to make a fatal mistake someday. His caustic comments were getting to be too much for her.

"Why are you always so mean to me, Professor?" she asked quietly, not looking at him.

"In order to insulate myself from the possible affection that might be directed towards me if I were kind. I have been protecting myself since childhood," Snape's voice, too monotonous to be natural, surprised Hermione.

She looked up sharply. Snape's eyes were a bit glazed, and he was staring at a spot somewhere over her left shoulder. There was nothing there when she turned around to look.

Snape continued, "My father had a hatred of all weak things. To him, those who loved were weak. If I showed any affection for anyone or anything, including my mother, my father would beat me, and use the Cruciatus Curse on me. But more importantly, he would beat my mother, for allowing me to be weak.

"I grew up afraid to show any affection for anyone or anything, lest it be taken away from me or hurt. I couldn't readily display any emotions other than anger and hate.

"In school, I was shunned by my classmates. I had no friends. I was awkward and strange, and seemingly full of hate. People were afraid of me, and they whispered stories about me behind my back and cursed me openly in the halls. I was always alone."

Snape's eyes were shining unnaturally. Hermione was shocked when she saw that the man had tears in his eyes. She swallowed, and she realized that the vial of clear liquid that she had put into the potion must have been Veritaserum. That was the reason for Snape telling her his life story. She was surprised at the tears forming a lump in her own throat- she had never expected to be crying for the snarky Professor Snape.

"There was nobody in the world to show me real love. I was always alone- who could love a man who hated himself?"

Tears were now streaming down Hermione's face. She moved closer to Snape and awkwardly patted his shoulder. She put down her dose of the potion and wondered what to do. How did you stop the effects of Veritaserum.?

Snape's monotonous voice kept going, spinning a very pathetic and sad tale filled with disappointment and loneliness.

Hermione, feeling responsible for the Snape breakdown as it were, managed to get the Potions Master to sit down on a stool. She sat down on a seat across from him to wait it out, but she failed. After a few minutes of Snape's deep, monotonous voice, Hermione succumbed to a long day and fell asleep with her head on the desk.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: Ohhh! Exciting! What will happen when Severus wakes up and remembers what he told Hermione? What will Hermione feel about the snarky Professor from now on? Read the next chapter to find out! P.S. I wanted Hermione to kiss Severus' face or something to comfort him...but she wouldn't to it. She just patted his shoulder. Silly free- will characters. Please review, darlings!


	3. You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore

The Emotions of Potions Rein Elanor

Chapter Three: You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Sometimes I think they own me. Especially when I find myself somewhere with chicken feathers all down my front....I think I'll go write in my diary.....

A/N: I really hate the idea of killing animals for their skin. So don't go out and get some crocodile skin on my account.

Chapter 3:

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Hermione Granger and Severus Snape both awoke at the same sound- the remainder of the roll of crocodile skin hitting the stone floor. It had been on the edge of the table for a long time, and had finally made its was over the side.

Apparently, the effects of the small dose of Veritaserum had worn off for Professor Snape. He had risen to his feet immediately and, with a single glance, had taken in the scene before him: a cauldron with an experimental potion dried up inside it, the paper of tortoise claws on the bench, and the stacks of parchment with Hermione Granger's neat handwriting recording the experiments. And Hermione herself: eyes red and seemingly teart, and blinking sleepily.

"What is the meaning of this, Granger?" Snape barked. It was not really a question, it was a demand for information.

Hermione bit her lip. Somehow, she didn't want to admit to having made a mistake and inadvertently forcing Snape to spill his _very_ personal life story and to having seen the tears that came with it. Still, she didn't want to lie to a teacher. Any more than was absolutely necessary, anyway.

Snape raised his eyebrows and said sarcastically, "Well? Are you going to tell me, Miss Granger, or must I assume that your brain stops working at," he checked his watch, "a half- past eight?"

She took a deep breath.

"Well, sir," she began. "We made the Liver Restorative Draught, and you were telling me about the properties of crocodile skin and tortoise claws and . . . I don't know . . . I must have dozed off. I'm terribly sorry, Professor."

Hermione hoped to Merlin that Snape would believe her. He was scrutinizing her keenly and suspiciously.

"Miss Granger," he said in a soft, dangerous voice that gave Hermione the creeps. "I want you to clean this classroom and scrub the floor without magic for the remainder of our lesson. If, by half- past nine, you have not told me the truth, I will make you rue the day you came to Hogwarts."

"But Professor, that is the tru" Hermione began hotly.

Snape gave her such an evil look that she shut her mouth and set to work putting the ingredients back in their proper places in the cupboard, including the small vial of "unicorn tears".

While Hermione cleaned the dungeon room without magic for an hour, Severus Snape sat behind his desk thinking about the lesson. He had seen the vial of Veritaserum, and he knew that the stupid girl had put it in the Liver Restorative Draught. He also knew that he had answered an innocent question with far too much candor. He remembered telling her about his pathetic life, and he felt his lip curl in disgust.

This was not directed at Hermione Granger os much as it was himself. He had been both clumsy and stupid- to leave the Veritaserum in the cupboard was clumsy, and to not notice that Granger had taken it for unicorn tears was stupid.

Then there was his disgust in himself, for telling his story when asked. Not that he could have helped it, when under the influence of Veritaserum. If asked the right questions, he would have said _anything_.

He frowned, thinking. What really mattered was whether Hermione Granger had put the Veritaserum in the potion on purpose. If she had . . . well, he'd take care of that. If she thought potions was terrible before . . .

But somehow, Severus couldn't believe that Hermione had done it on purpose. She was too careful about her potions to render them useless deliberately. Not only that, but neither could Severus see Hermione being that malicious. Her little cohorts, maybe, the Potter boy or Weasley (if he had the with to think of it), but not she.

Not that he hadn't given her ample cause to hate him. He knew he was unnecessarily harsh and, on occasion, cruel to her (the teeth incident in her fourth year still gave him a guilty twinge whenever he thought of it). He knew he was harsh, but he couldn't seem to stop it (nor, he had to admit to himself, did he want to stop it). It was, as he had told her, his way of keeping people at arms' length. It also came in handy in his position as a spy to seem to hate everybody.

Severus got out a piece of parchment and began writing, glancing up every once in awhile to check that Hermione was still cleaning. He was working on a new theory, dealing with sleeping potions and the effect on their intensity. He believed that, with the proper application of pine bark and powdered maize roots, the inclusion of wormwood in sleeping droughts would not be necessary. Soon, he was so engrossed in his work, thinking all the reactions of the ingredients and their relative availability, that he completely forgot about Hermione Granger's presence in his dungeon.

This was what he really lived for- research. If it hadn't been for his early mistakes (joining the Death Eaters being the one that stood out the most), he would have done research exclusively his whole life. He envied Hermione the chance to pursue Experimental Potions as a career.

He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice that it was past 9:30, and that Hermione was standing behind him, reading his notes over his shoulder. What finally clued him in to her presence was a combination of the sound of her breathing and her long hair touching his head as he bent over the parchment.

Without thinking, he jumped out of his seat and grabbed her wrist, twisting it back so she couldn't move. Her cry of pain made him check the automatic self- defense maneuver that had been indoctrinated into him. He lowered his want, which had come out of nowhere to point at her throat, and released her wrist.

"Don't _ever_ sneak up behind me again, Miss Granger," he growled. "Next time I may not be able to stop my reaction and your dead body would stand as a lasting tribute to those who insist on reading over the shoulders of their betters."

Hermione's face was red. She looked half- scared and half- embarrassed. She definitely had not been expecting a reaction like that from him. She hadn't been expecting any reaction, having been about to try to get his attention when she saw what it was he had been writing.

Hermione had always believed that Snape's only ambition was to torture any Gryffindor he came across. Now, however, she knew that his real passion was for research, and that he was quite brilliant at it. It made him more human, somehow.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said. "I was just trying to get your attention and I happened to see what you were writing. It's quite brilliant, sir, if you don't mind"

Snape interrupted coldly. "What I was writing was no concern of yours. I only allow you here as a favor to Dumbledore. Otherwise, I would not tolerate seeing you for more than normal class time. Get out."

She just stood there, looking at him with her mouth slightly open. He moved closer and towered over her menacingly.

"Get out, Miss Granger. I will see you tomorrow night, unless by some fortunate calamity"

He was cut off by the clamming of the classroom/ dungeon door. Hermione had turned and run out of the room, leaving her motes on one of the tables in a neat pile. As she had turned away from him, he had seen tears spilling over her cheeks. He remembered the tears she had cried in sympathy for him, and her patting his shoulder comfortingly as he had spoken earlier, answering her question:

'Why are you always so mean to me, Professor?'

OOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: Oh, do you think he's feeling guilty? Why does she care so much? Hmmm.....Aren't they so cute? Please review!

P.S. The title of this chapter was taken from the ahem _lovely_ Neil Diamond/ Barbra Streisand song of the same name. There's not really a reason I named it that, I just have a rather odd sense of humor. Ha ha.


	4. Harboring Feelings of What?

The Emotions of Potions Rein Elanor

Chapter Four: Harboring Feelings of....What?

Disclaimer: Hi, my name is not J.K. Rowling. Nice to meet you.

A/N: Hello, faithful readers. (You must really be faithful if you've waited this long to read this.) I am soooo sorry about the horrendous delay in updating, my dears! It's a dreadful thing, to lead you all to believe that I wouldn't finish! (Or maybe I made you happy, giving you hope for a future without this crime of literature.)

Chapter 4: Harboring Feelings of ....What?

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Hermione ran blindly out of the classroom. She cursed herself silently for being so stupid and crying, but that didn't stop her tears. She got to her Head Girl's room and lay down upon her bed. As she thought about that night's lesson, her face grew hot with anger.

'He has no right to be so cruel to anyone,' she thought. 'Even if his father _was_ horrible to him.'

Yet she couldn't help feeling sorry for him, through her anger. It had been a heart wrenching story, and it had helped her to see him in a more human light.

Hermione yawned, and her last thought before drifting off to sleep was, 'At least he was so angry that he forgot to make me tell him the truth about the potion...'

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Severus Snape, back in his study in the dungeons, felt like a heel. Of course, she had deserved the reprimand- it had been stupid to sneak up on him- but he still felt rather like a cockroach. And a slimy, one at that. He caught a glimpse of himself in one of the glass jars that lined his study walls, and turned away in disgust. The greasy hair, the hook nose- he was ugly, there was no doubt about it. He wondered how anyone could bear to look at him.

'No wonder the students fear me,' he thought, forgetting for a moment his deliberately evil outward demeanor.

Then he remembered Hermione Granger patting his shoulder again. Why did he keep remembering that?

She was the first person to touch him without extreme repugnance in a long time, even if it had been in sympathy. He knew she was sympathetic towards all pathetic creatures, having heard about S.P.E.W. If she could care that much about house elves why not the cruel and greasy Professor Snape?

He shook his head, trying to clear it. Why was he thinking these pointless thoughts about Hermione Granger, of all people?

He went into the cold lavatory he had all to himself and took a shower. He let the hot water burn his skin as he tore at his scalp washing his black hair. Although he knew that after ten minutes of standing over a steaming cauldron his hair would be limp again, he never failed in trying to make it look cleaner.

"Disgusting, that's what you are," he told the thin and hook- nosed reflection in his mirror as he brushed his teeth.

"You aren't so bad yourself, sonny," his mirror replied.

In the chamber that served as his bedroom, Severus changed quickly into his sleepwear and slipped between the sheets. He fell asleep that night with a look of self- loathing on his thin face.

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The next lesson, Tuesday night, Hermione once again came four minutes early. She walked in with her head held high, and when she spoke, ice dripped from her voice. Severus heard it, and inwardly sneered at her efforts. He could beat her at the frigid game any day.

They were to make the Liver potion again, and this time Snape had left the vial labeled "Unicorn Tears" right in front so the girl couldn't miss it.

Seveus saw that she colored a bit as she drew the glass tube out. As he had gone over the procedure and ingredient properties the night before, he sat at his desk in silence, watching her work.

He could tell that she could feel his eyes on her, and that it was making her nervous. Not that she was any less careful in her measuring and note-taking. But he noticed that she did tremble a bit nervously under his scrutiny of her methods.

He smirked slightly at this- maybe it would take the girl down a peg or two. Merlin knew she needed it.

At eight o'clock, Hermione looked up from the cauldron and her notes. "The potion is finished, sir," she said, carefully avoiding eye contact with him. She knew that any eye contact would break down her weak shield of frostiness, and that if it broke she would either cry again or lash out at him.

Professor Snape arose and walked around his desk, to stand before her at her cauldron. "I see that you managed to keep awake tonight," he sneered.

She turned a dull shade of red at this. Her mouth compressed and he could see her hands shake a bit with suppressed- anger? embarrassment? -as she spooned up a bit of the potion for him.

Her hands- Hermione drooped the spoon back into the cauldron with a splash when Professor Snape grabbed one of her hands. It was the one he had twisted behind her in his automatic self-defense move the night before. He was looking at the five little dark bruises that had appeared on her hand. She could feel his breath on her fingers as he peered at the marks intently. She felt another surge of- something- either in her stomach or in her head. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

After looking at her hand for what seemed like a long time- although in reality it had been perhaps half a minute- Professor Snape let go of Hermione's hand.

"I'm sorry about that, Miss Granger," he said, apparently about the bruises he had caused. "No physical harm was intended."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she regarded him warily. Was Snape apologising? To her, no less? This was strange.....

"However, you must expect to come by harm, whether physical or magical, when you foolishly sneak up behind someone as well-trained in defense as myself," he continued, his lip curling.

Hermione felt rather relieved. So he wasn't apologising. At least she knew where she stood when he acted like he hated her.

"Miss Granger," Snape's silkily cold voice once again cut through Hermione's thoughts. "I am not staying with you after 9:30 and we are not doing this potion again. So I suggest," his dark eyes bored into her face but she didn't meet them, "That you and I test this potion."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir."

She once again spooned out two doses of the Restorative Liver potion. He still insisted on being the one to test it first. Hermione was not sure how she felt about that. What if she had made another mistake? However, she was fairly confidant in this potion.

This confidance did not prevent her from watching Snape carefully as he drank his dose. After he downed it, he once again stood still to measure his own reaction, while Hermione watched him anxiously. He allowed a few moments to pass, after which he looked at her and said, "It seems to have come out well enough. Just don't ask me any personal questions, if you please, Granger." He nodded at her.

Hermione was shocked at the almost friendly tone of his voice. The she realized what he had said. She felt her face burning as she raised her own dose to her lips and drank it down. So he knew about the Veritaserum, then. Why wasn't he tearing her apart, then?

Severus Snape caught Hermione's look of shock and her red face. He had to fight back a laugh at the look on her young face. She was too sensitive, that was her problem. If she hadn't been so concerned about gaining the approval of others, she would have been able to open up a bit more more, and maybe she would even be able to catch his (admittedly odd) sense of humor.

After they had finished testing the potion, and Hermione had completed her notes on the experiment, Snape left her to clean up. He sat behind his desk and graded papers as she once again put all the ingredients back in the proper places. She was just packing her notes into her bag in preparation for her departure when he barked, "The time is only twenty past nine, Miss Granger. Our lesson is not yet over."

She looked at him. "Sir?" she asked.

"Sit down, Granger," he gestured at one of the chairs in front of his desk. He saw her look of reluctance as she sat down across from him. 'Too bad,' he thought snidely. 'She should have been more careful about those "Unicorn Tears".'

Hermione sat in one of the straight-backed chairs and looked at her hands, which were folded in her lap. 'This is it,' she thought. 'You're going to get it now, Granger. You fed a teacher Veritaserum.'

"There is no need to look as though awaiting a death sentence, Miss Granger," she heard Snape's voice, dripping with- sarcasm or humor? Perhaps his version of humor was sarcasm.

" I merely wished to ask you a few questions," he continued.

'Here it comes,' Hermione thought. 'He's going to ask about the Veritaserum.'

"When you told them of your decision to go into Potions and of your lessons here with me, how did Potter and Weasley react?" Snape's voice was silky; not at all threatening, simply interested.

Hermione took a deep breath. Her relief was almost pitiful, Severus reflected.

"Well, sir . . . I haven't actually- told them," she admitted, torn between being abashed at her answer and indignant at his question.

His fathomless black eyes bored into her. "No? Pray tell, why is that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione thought about it. The real reason she hadn't told Harry and Ron (especially Ron) about her Experimental Potions ambitions (and, in particular, her personalized learning learning sessions with Snape) was her knowledge of what their reactions would be. They hated Snape too much to see the possibilities of his subject. They would harangue her and tell her to get a grip without listening to her defense.

Snape raised his eyebrows. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Miss Granger. I am merely asking for curiosity's sake."

'Hell, what's the harm in telling him?' Hermione wondered.

"I haven't told my friends about my interest in Experimental Potions because I didn't want to have to deal with them constantly telling me that I chose wrong, and that I really want to be an Auror," she explained, with a tough of fondness in her voice.

"Aurors? Is that what they want to be?" Snape's voice was filled with scorn again.

Hermione looked at him. "Yes, sir. And I think they'll make good ones, with all due respect."

She stood up, picking up her bag and once again preparing to leave. "I've got to be going, Professor. Thank you very much for your time," she said curtly.

He got up from behind his desk, however, and stood in the doorway of the classroom with his arms folded across his chest, staring down at her. "Miss Granger, " he rumbled, " I have given up much of my personal time to help you in your chosen field. I do not give up my time lightly. I expect you to take these lessons seriously."

"I do, sir," she said, frowning. "But I really have to be"

"As I expect you to take the lessons seriously, I expect you to incorporate them into your life. You will tell your friends," he sneered at the word, " about your career choice and these lessons."

Hermione scowled. "With all due respect, sir, I really don't think that what I tell my friends is any of your business. Especially since you have made your contempt of them very obvious for years." She tried to brush past him through the door, but he put out an arm and she walked into it.

"None o my business, is it, Miss Granger?" Snape purred, pushing his face close to hers. "If you cannot muster the faith in your choice to face the challenges of your friends, I shall not waste any more time on you. Good night." And he stepped out of her way and made a mock bow towards the corridor beyond.

She brushed past him angrily. "Nosy bastard,"she muttered.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for your lack of respect, and tem more for the idiocy to believe that I couldn't hear that."

Hermione made up some very clever insults for a certain bat-like teacher that evening before bed.

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A/N: Hello, my darlings! I just had to thank the people who reviewed. You guys are awesome. And I really am sorry about that horrific delay. I'll try harder next time, really! It's just a matter of typing this story. (I have two notebooks full of it already, and it's still growing. Like The Blob.) So, anyways, I hope you liked this chapter. So, what do you think will happen next? Don't worry, Snape and Hermione will still be having their lessons. They just had a bit of a tiff back there. Keep reading!


	5. A Few Half Hearted Arguments

The Emotions of Potions Rein Elanor

Chapter Five: A few half-hearted arguments

Disclaimer: Hi! My name isn't J.K Rowling! I'm so glad to meet you!

A/N: Hello, dear readers! Have fun with the story!

Chapter 5: A few Half-hearted arguments

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The next day at breakfast, Hermione quietly told her friends about her decision to go into Potions and her lessons with Snape three times a week. They took it pretty well, she thought. Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and accidently knocked his plate of sausages off the table and into his lap. Harry's green eyes widened a bit, and then he smiled knowingly.

"I kinda thought you were headed in that direction, Hermione," he said, patting her on the back. "I'm glad you made your decision. It would have been fun to be Aurors together, but I know you know what you're doing."

"Personal lessons. . . with Snape?!" Ron managed to splutter. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance, then set to work soothing and explaining to Ron.

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Hermione's lessons with Snape progressed well. They went over a good many complex potions, and they even set to work on his latest idea- a potion that would allow the drinker to speak any language, after hearing only one sentence of it.

Snape had come to respect Hermione's intelligence and tenacity in potion-making, and although he did not often express approval, she understood that his lack of disapproval was encouraging. Hermione had begun to understand that the intimidating and sometimes terrifying Professor Snape was a brilliant Potions Master and was possessed of one of the keenest investigating minds she had ever come across. She found that they were able to communicate on the subject at hand with an understanding that was close to intuition. Their minds consistently made the same leaps between steps, and they rarely had to explain their ideas.

He still commented on her know-it-all behavior and her supposed arrogance and various attention-seeking issues, but she understood that he was doing it mostly out of habit. However, his snide comments about her friends, insulting their intelligence, among other things, never failed in angering her. Whenever he indulged in insulting her "family" at Hogwarts, she would turn stony and grate out her return comments to him.

Snape did not understand her ire at his insults to Potter and Weasley. Surely she must know that they were far below her in intelligence? When he added this to his observations and commentary on the Gryffindor boys, she turned an angry red and replied that they were her friends and she loved them for who they were. Snape felt his lip curl at the girl's romantic notions. He thought he understood the situation: Potter and Weasley were just using her intelligence and duping her into believing that they were truly friends. He could not understand their honest loyalty and friendship, could not understand that Harry and Ron gave Hermione as much as she gave them.

Hermione had a few other annoying quirks, Snape had discovered. (These were apart from the crime of being foolishly, in his opinion anyway, devoted to Potter and Weasley.) She had a most irritating habit of humming odd snatches of Muggle songs while she was working, and she seemed not to notice that she was doing it until he would make an annoyed comment about it. She would stop, looking half-amused at his insistence upon her silence, and half-surprised to learn that she had been humming at all.

Severus had also discovered that when Hermione Granger was in a particularly good mood, she would sing anything that come to her mind in a not-very good, not-very-quiet voice. She would usually stop at a growled out comment from him, but she would continue smiling afterwards, and he could often hear her begin singing again as soon as the door was closed behind her. She seemed to enjoy irritating him in that way.

However, despite these hiccups in their lessons, they began to form a sort of wary shared understanding of each other that could not be called friendship, but that might be called a bond of shared interest and respect.

Harry and Ron had noticed the change in Hermione's relationship with the "greasy bat" of Slytherin house. She defended Snape when the boys criticized his work for the Order and his work in teaching their Potions class.

One day in late December, the three friends got into a full-fledged argument.

"He has to favor the Slytherins, don't you see?" Hermione had asked them impatiently after hearing the two of them discussing Snape's "bastardly" ways. "Think of how many of the Slytherin's parents are Death Eaters!"

Ron turned red, then said, "Yeah, that git Malfoy, don't know why Dumbledore"

But Hermione cut him off. "Dumbledore believes that each person has the capacity for redemption, as do I."

Harry nodded and said quietly, "Me too."

Hermione continued, "Professor Snape can't very well get by as a . . . well, in his position with Voldemort, if Voldemort hears from Lucius Malfoy that Snape is handing out points to Gryffindors. He has to be favoring the Slytherins to maintain his position as . . . as a spy," she finished, her voice quivering a bit.

"Hermione!" Ron practically hooted in alarm. "You sound as though you actually care about the git!"

Hermione grew almost angry at him. He really was a bit thick sometimes. "Of course I care about him, Ron! Do you have any idea of the things he puts himself through for the Order? I respect his bravery and his intelligence," she snapped.

Harry nodded again. "I respect the work he does for the Order, too, and I also feel a bit sorry for him. He really is a sad case."

Ron looked angry. It seemed to him like his two best friends were siding with his worst enemy. "C'mon, Hermione, Harry," he said loudly. "You're talking about Snape! Snape the ugly, greasy, batty bastard! We hate him!"

A few of their fellow Gryffindors turned their heads and some grinned. Snape was well-hated amongst the Gryffindors.

"Really, Ron,"Hermione hissed. "You're being childish."

Ron started looking frustrated. "Hermione, you've been acting really strange for the past few months. You haven't been having any fun for awhile; I guess you were spending all your time with dear old Snape." He looked at her, suddenly playful. "Wanna snog?"

Hermione resisted the urge to scream. She rolled her eyes instead. Harry was looking at her worriedly. He could sense how close she was to blowing up.

"C'mon, 'Mione," Ron said teasingly. "We haven't done anything for a long time, and I'm going home for Christmas. You've been spending all your time with"

"Ron," Harry whispered urgently. "Shut up, mate! She's going to kill you!"

But it was too late. Hermione's face colored angrily, and her bushy hair seemed to crackle with electricity. Ron looked a bit frightened, as did a few of the younger Gryffindors who saw her. They scampered.

"How can you be so thick, Ronald Weasley?!"she shrilled. Ron, red to the ears, sunk into his armchair. "You insist on hating a man who deserves respect, you refuse to acknowledge my choices, let alone respect them . . . why do you insist on pretending to care about what I care for?" Her eyes blazed angrily at him.

Ron looked shocked. Hermione felt a bit sorry for him. He honestly was a very good person, he was just a bit thoughtless.

"Hermione...you're right," Ron breathed, sitting up in his seat, his face going from red to gray. "I'm sorry. I don't deserve you, I just don't understand you. C-Could we maybe still be friends?" He looked at her, pleading.

Some of the electricity seemed to go out of Hermione's hair, and her shoulders relaxed. Ron held out his hands to her, and she put her hands into them.

"Do you hate me, Hermione?" Ron asked. "I would deserve it."

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Stop being melodramatic, Ron. I love you, you're one of my best friends. I couldn't hate you."

Ron jumped up and Harry grinned. All three of them hugged. Somehow, without any of them saying anything, they all accepted each other as friends again.

The next day at breakfast, everyone seemed to know that Ron and Hermione had split up. The students from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin seemed surprised to see Ron, Hermione, and Harry still amicable- apparently even closer than ever. The three of them spent most of the morning laughing together at inside jokes.

But by lunchtime, Hermione wasn't feeling nearly as happy. She had begun to remember the reason she had been going out with Ron in the first place. She had needs, after all. And she began to realize that she actually missed having Ron as a boyfriend. As the day wore on, Hermione grew steadily more irritable.

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By the time her lesson with Snape rolled around, the last one before Christmas break, Hermione was in a seriously depressed state. She walked into his dungeons and immediately collided with a desk.

"Dammination," she muttered.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for your unsavory language," Snape's silky voice came from behind her. "Your romantic entanglements, or the end thereof, do not give you the privilege to use those words."

Hermione gritted her teeth. So Snape had heard. 'The bastard,' she thought furiously. 'How dare he comment on my personal life!'

She turned around slowly, her anger mounting over her depression. He was standing close behind her, towering over her with his arms crossed over his chest, and staring down his hooked nose at her with a calculating look in his eyes. "I fail to comprehend your feelings about all this. Why should you work yourself up like this over the loss of a half-wit like Weasley? I had thought that you were semi-intelligent, and therefore find this out-of-character."

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Sir, I fail to comprehend your apparent interest in this matter. My personal life is none of your concern."

"It is my concern if you are not thinking straight as a result of your emotional state. I refuse to be blown up when you make a mistake because you're upset that Weasley dumped you." Snape was practically purring, enjoying her anger.

Hermione saw that he was enjoying it, and her voice grew immediately cold. "Sir, I respect your concern in my mental state, but I can assure you that I have no intention of letting my emotions interfere with my customary care and caution in making the potion." She looked at him challengingly.

A glint of amusement showed itself in his obsidian eyes. "I'm not sure you can help it, Miss Granger. Your mind is occupied elsewhere. I just witnessed your attempt to walk through a desk. How can I be sure that you won't accidently tip dragon's blood into the Tongues Elixir?" He fingered his wand. "Perhaps I could obliterate Weasley from your memory..." he glanced at her.

Hermione grew angry again. "Some of us would like to have fond memories, even if they hurt," she snarled.

"At the cost of being distracted by them? Tut, tut, Granger, I should have thought better of you," Snape was honestly enjoying this.

"Some of us want to live, sir, and loving is a necessary part of life. I want to live, and I won't let you take away my memories to stop 'distractions' that would not have happened anyway." Hermione looked straight into his gaze.

"Then I am afraid, Miss Granger, that this will be our last lesson," he paused, looking at her. "Until after the Christmas holiday."

She had clenched her teeth in indignation at his words. When he finished his sentence, she looked at him in disbelief.

She stuttered, "But, sir, that's such a long time, don't you think? What about over the"

"Miss Granger," Snape interjected cooly. "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave you." He nodded at her, telling her to go.

When she continued standing there, he sighed. "Goodbye, Miss Granger," he said quietly, putting his hand between her shoulder blades and gently maneuvering her out of his dungeons. "I'll see you after the holiday."

Once she was outside, he moved to shut the door. He just heard her saying, "But sir, I'm staying over the" before the door slammed in her face.

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Author's Note: Ok, you guys...I'm really _really_ sorry about my pathetically long delays. I've had this chapter typed up and without a title for about...two months? Sorry! I really am! But I do want to say thank you to all my reviewers. You guys are awesome. And if I continue to be slow, just yell at me. I've got tons of this story written out, I just have to type it. I also apologise for the odd chapter. It was the bit of boring-ness between exciting parts. There's some better action coming up, including....A Christmas dinner incident? Ooooo...


	6. A Christmas Dinner Incident

The Emotions of Potions Rein Elanor

Chapter Six: A Christmas Dinner Incident

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I just lock them up in my room and tickle them until they talk.

A/N: Err...I'm really sorry again for the long delay. I haven't really got an excuse. I mean, I'm busy, but it's not like anybody writes fan fiction professionally. I mean, everybody has another life (and a probably very much duller life) that they have to lead when they aren't reading or writing this stuff. So I am sorry. I hope you find that the story was worth a wait. I was really excited to write it.

Chapter 6: A Christmas Dinner Incident

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After that door slammed, a few reflections took place on either side of it. Hermione moved down the corridor a bit, feeling somewhat lost. She could still feel the warmth of Snape's hand between her shoulders where he had placed it to lead her out of his classroom.

"And why am I so anxious to have these lessons so often?" she wondered. "I mean, he's not making it a bucket of laughs."

But she did realise that she had begun to feel almost at home in Snape's dungeon. It was almost a haven for her, a place to get away from the frivolities of Gryffindor Tower. In his presence, she could relax and be herself. Harry and Ron, though both were sweet and great friends, couldn't converse on her level, and she found herself hiding her intelligence to talk to them. But with Snape . . .

Hermione mentally slapped herself. "What am I thinking! He's bloody Snape!" she exclaimed aloud, causing a few portraits to look at her keenly. She blushed and began walking back up to Gryffindor Tower, reflecting on Severus Snape.

'He's not that bad, really,' she thought. 'He can be a bastard, but mostly, he's just misunderstood.' Then she snorted. 'Wait- of _course_ he's a bastard!' she thought, pulling a wry face (anyone watching her would have thought her mad, really). 'But he's an intelligent and brave bastard,' she thought, almost fondly.

'And I really _do_ enjoy working with him,' she thought. 'Christmas is going to be boring.'

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Severus Snape leaned against the dungeon door after he had pushed Hermione out of the room.

"Now, why did I refuse to see her over the holidays?" he asked himself aloud. "That was stupid." Then he seemed to realize what he had said, and his eyes widened in horror and a little disgust.

He tried to make up for his own thoughts, absent-mindedly rubbing the hand he'd touched Hermione's back with in his other hand. "It's because she needs the time and experience over the break!" he told himself. "It's not anything bad!"

Severus shook his head. Better watch his own mind. Wouldn't want anything weird popping out again. He set to work on a nice, distracting potion.

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Sooner than seemed possible, the students who were going home for Christmas had left (including Ron and Harry), and the castle was empty but for a very few students and the teachers. Hermione spent most of her time in the library, studying the Experimental Potions texts (or re-studying them, as she had already read most of the books). The library was normally empty of students during the days before Christmas, and this year was no exception. Hermione expected to be alone, and was therefore surprised on Christmas Eve when a soft voice suddenly spoke from behind her.

"Re-reading these books will not grant you holiday lessons, Miss Granger."

Hermione let out a little scream of surprise and what was almost terror. Her scream was cut off by a long-fingered hand that closed over her mouth. She would have panicked at this point, had she not recognized the distinctive smell of the herbs and spices of the Potions lab. It was Professor Snape. She relaxed, and pulled his hand from her mouth. She was surprised at how warm it was.

"I should have thought that you would be able to withstand the horror of my presence by now, Miss Granger," he said in an amused tone, sitting down across from her and pushing some books aside so he could see her.

"Your presence is far from horrifying, Professor," Hermione replied, placing her hand on her heart as though to check that it was still beating. "You merely startled me."

He smirked. "So I see."

She rolled her eyes. "Was there something you wanted, sir?" she asked in a mock-exasperated tone. "Or did you come here for the sole purpose of scaring the magic out of me?"

"What other purpose do I have in life but to scare young Gryffindors at every opportunity?" he drawled at her, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest, his black eyes meeting her brown ones almost challengingly.

She raided her eyebrows. "I think your life is valuable in many other ways, sir," she said simply.

His eyes mocked her sincerity as he purred, "And what, pray tell, are those ways, Miss Granger? Please enlighten me."

"I think you're valuable as a teacher, for one thing," she began, looking a bit thoughtful. "For, despite your harshness, or perhaps because of it, you force your students to learn and to respect the art of potions-making."

He looked a bit surprised at this, and with a small smile, she continued.

"You are also valuable as a role model for successful scholarship- you are a brilliant Potions Master."

His mouth twitched a bit at this. Whether he wanted to laugh at her or to sneer at her words was uncertain. Perhaps he wanted to do both.

"Thirdly, sir," she continued, blushing a bit at her own words, "I think that you are valuable as a human being. I think that there's a great capacity for good in you. There's a great heart hidden inside you, sir, behind the harsh exterior and the great mind."

"I highly doubt that, Miss Granger," he drawled, standing up. "We must remember what I have been. The chance of the capacity for good in me is not great, although I thank you for your belief that it could exist. Not many would think it possible. Happy Christmas, Miss Granger."

So saying, the most feared and hated of all the Hogwarts professors turned and billowed out of the library, leaving a very confused Hermione Granger to sort out her reactions to his speech.

The next day was Christmas, and Hermione woke rather later than usual (Gryffindor Tower was rather more quiet than usual, owing to the absence of many who normally dwelled there) to find her gifts on the end of the bed. A new quill from Harry, and yet another bottle of perfume from Ron. Hermione frowned a bit at this. Why was Ron still buying her perfume, she wondered? Then she realized that he must have bought it before they had split up. An unusual act of efficiency that Hermione admired. Unless, of course, Ron had merely been too lazy to think of another gift to get her for Christmas.

Hermione spent most of the day lounging around the Common Room with Crookshanks, daydreaming and dozing off occasionally. When it was time for the traditional Christmas dinner, she headed down the stairs to the Great Hall.

As usual, the Great Hall was decorated wonderfully, with 12 Christmas trees and candles galore. Looking around, Hermione saw that there was one round table in the middle of the huge hall, with the teachers and three students seated around it.

When Dumbledore saw Hermione, he waved her over to the table.

"Ah! Miss Granger!" he cried. "Since there are so few students staying this year, I have once again decided to put everyone together at one table! Please sit down!" he gestured at the one remaining seat- between Professor Flitwick and Severus Snape.

She smiled at the other students and at the teachers as she sat. A few smiled back. Snape looked grumpy, and simply raised his eyebrows at her when she turned her smile in his direction.

Dumbledore clapped his hands once, and the magnificent Christmas feast appeared before them. The two second year Hufflepuffs exclaimed happily and began to eat so enthusiastically that Snape looked disgusted. Hermione suppressed a giggle at this- he was obviously in one of his very sarcastic and disagreeable moods.

Through most of the dinner, Hermione chatted amicably with Professor Flitwick about the various Advanced Charms they were learning (and scheduled to learn) in class. They talked until the coffee arrived at the end of the meal, when they were laughing over the Levitation Charm they had covered in first year. Hermione was once again demonstrating the old "swish and flick" motion when she accidentally knocked her full cup of coffee (which was amazingly hot) right into Snape's black-robed lap.

She gasped, grabbing a napkin. "Oh, I'm so sorry Professor!" she cried. "Let me get that. Oh, I'm so sorry!" she continued, while attempting to wipe the hot coffee off of his lap.

He grabbed her wayward hand and hissed, "I really don't think I need you here, Miss Granger." He then muttered, "_Evanesco_," and the coffee disappeared.

Hermione, blushing furiously, left the Great Hall soon after. She shuddered to think what it must have looked like she was doing. And to Snape of all people! She left right behind Severus, who went to the Hospital Wing to have a burn in a rather uncomfortable place healed.

A/N: I'm far too vain to leave off a chapter without an authoress' note to explain my cleverness (or lack thereof). So here it is. What do _you_ think will happen? In the next chapter, we will be seeing the relationship progress to a certain important time. Like Hermione leaving Hogwarts for University. Where do you think she's going? Find out in...The Emotions of Potions: Chapter 7!


	7. An End and a Beginning

The Emotions of Potions Rein Elanor

Chapter Seven: An End and a Beginning

Disclaimer: Although the time I've taken in posting this chapter would warrant Book 6, I did not write those books, because I am not JKR. I am Rein, and I am not making any money off this

A/N: Hey guys. What can I say besides I'm really sorry it took me so long to type this? The reviews I've gotten on another story I'm writing have urged me to keep up with this story again. This story is really AU with HBP, too. So...you were warned.

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During her next personal lesson with Snape, Hermione tried to apologize for the hot-coffee-in-the-lap incident at Christmas, but he simply cut her off and started talking about Vampire blood in Strengthening Potions. Hermione sighed, and began taking notes. The incident was forgotten by neither, but they choose not to talk about it.

Their lessons continued, and Hermione came to enjoy them more than almost any other activity. She found Snape's conversation to be quick-witted and amusing, his lectures riveting, and she was always challenged by their experiments.

They worked together amazingly well, considering that he was Head of Slytherin House and she was Gryffindor's shining star. But they found a few shared interests, and when working on a potion together they seemed to think as one. It was a bit creepy at times.

When they brewed potions that required sitting for several minutes, they discussed almost everything under the sun. The Ministry, potions, the Headmaster's tendency to meddle in other people's business (they spoke with affection), and literature were all discussed, among other things. They discovered that the had read many of the same books, and found themselves recommending others to one another. And sometimes, they sat quietly, the silence being uncomfortable no more.

So the year passed, with Voldemort's power growing stronger outside Hogwarts. Hermione knew that Severus' double life as a spy was getting to him. She saw him in the moments when he thought she didn't see- saw him putting his head in his hands almost disparingly or rubbing his left forearm and hissing in pain when the Dark Mark twitched. She tried to get the courage to talk to him about it, but she knew he would simply close himself to her and perhaps never open up again even as far as he already had.

The weeks flew by, and before Hermione knew it, she had taken her NEWTs, and her last personal lesson with Snape was ending. As she packed up her supplies for the last time, she glanced around the dungeon fondly and even sadly. She knew she would miss it.

"Before you go, Miss Granger, would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh...er, yes, thank you, Professor Snape," Hermione answered, almost surprised, but pleased nonetheless.

Snape ushered her into his office and gestured her into one of the chairs in front of his desk. He conjured a tea kettle and some cups. As he poured. He asked her a question.

"What do you plan to do with your life after you leave Hogwarts, Miss Granger?"

Finished with pouring, he sat down in the other chair in front of his desk and looked at her keenly.

Holding the cup of tea (conjured food is never particularly good), Hermione blushed a bit and answered, "Actually, sir, I shall be attending a Muggle University in America for a few years to explore my possibilities."

Of all the reactions Hermione might have anticipated from Snape at her announcement, anger was the one she least expected.

His face darkened. "A Muggle University, then. In America. After all these months I have spent teaching you," he growled, "You decide to simply go off to a Muggle University."

Hermione frowned. "I really don't mean- "

"Miss Granger," Snape interrupted, "You really seem to be missing the point. Do you know what is happening outside Hogwarts?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Of course I know about Voldemort, Professor Snape, but I'm a person, too. And I need to figure out who I-"

Snape cut her off again, standing up and putting his hands the arms of her chair. Leaning over he, he hissed, "I never thought that I was teaching you so that you could run away to America and pretend to be a Muggle." He seemed really angry.

He wasn't the only one. "I hardly think that what I do with my life is any of your business, Professor Snape," she said icily. "I need to explore the possibilities of the Muggle world. I plan to major in History and Chemistry, which, as you know-"

"I know only that you are running out on your people, being extremely selfish, and that you have wasted my precious time all year. Get out."

His normally pale cheeks were tinged an angry red, and his dark eyes were flashing dangerously at her. He stood away from her chair to let her leave.

Hermione felt her eyes fill with angry tears. "How can you think that I would do that?" she cried furiously, standing up, and smashing her teacup down on his desk. "I thought you would have understood that I have to take one last look into my parent's world to see if there is anything-"

He stepped foward again, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. "I refuse to allow you to throw your life away like this,"he said angrily.

"I love my parents, and this was their request. It's my life,"she retorted, angry tears now spilling down her face. She was furious at herself for crying in front of him like this. "Let me go!" she cried, struggling to get away from him.

Pushing her away from himself forcefully, he hissed, "You know nothing of life, you silly little girl."

She looked at him, angry and hurt beyond what she would have thought possible only five minutes before. "And you, Professor Snape," she whispered, "Know nothing of love."

With that, Hermione Granger ran out of the dungeons, and put Severus Snape behind her.

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Hermione's graduation was one week later, and the two of them didn't say one word to each other during that week, at the ceremony, or afterwards.

Hermione flew (by airplane) to Massachusetts to attend Harvard University, where she spent the next four years. She thought about Snape occasionally, and she missed him often (especially his potions stores and his sharp wit). She considered sending him an owl to tell him she was sorry, but she found that she couldn't. She needed an apology from him first.

Little did she know it, but across the Atlantic, the grouchy Potions Master felt the same way.

Time passed.

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Hermione's years at Harvard passed uneventfully. She found many of her classes boring, and found many of her classmates dull and shallow. She missed her discussions with Snape, her adventures with Harry and Ron (although they kept in touch, it was very hard to get together), and even the twinkle in Albus Dumbledore's eyes. Hermione decided that Snape had had a soothing and at the same time stimulating effect on her (when he wasn't spitting nails in anger). His calm (substitute expressionless) demeanor, the scent of exotic herbs that clung to his person, his silky voice...As soon as Hermione decided that Snape was actually sexy in a dark, lean, brooding sort of way, she decided that it was time to get a life.

After commencement in her fourth year at University, Hermione flew back to London to see her parents and get on with life. She was living peacefully at home, visiting with Harry and Ron and polishing her resume when she received a shock.

In early July, Hermione's owl Apollo arrived with a letter from Albus Dumbledore of the twinkling eyes. The letter bid Hermione to return to Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express the next day, if she 'could manage it". Hermione could recognise a direct order, however. She spent the day with her parents, and boarded the train with her luggage on Tuesday, July 3rd.

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A/N: Sorry it was so short. I'll be typing the next bit tomorrow, so I'll have that up soon. Please tell me if you think this story has gotten silly or if I should scrap it. I have a whole load more of this story, including bits of actual potions work and jealousy and Remus Lupin. Do you think it's worth it?


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